


oh, the things we get ourselves into

by kasuutan



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, M/M, canonical character death mention, jason todd fans are gonna brick me for this i s2g
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6378595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasuutan/pseuds/kasuutan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasnt supposed to go like this, at all. </p><p>Jason deserves better. </p><p> </p><p>Dick's in the cave when Bruce returns, and he's forgotten to tell Dick something that could be very, very, important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh, the things we get ourselves into

**Author's Note:**

> i sleep wrote this in the notes section on my phone so take this as you will
> 
> the jason todd defense squad is gonna be out for my skin and bones but i have no life left to give
> 
> dick is a completely able, autonomous adult but that doesnt mean he cant suffer from poor decision making skills 
> 
> i totally fucked up the canon of death in the family and butchered what actually happened but listen 1) who DOESNT make up their own batman canon and 2) notes section on the iphone cut me some slack 
> 
> dont say theres no adequate warning

It wasn't supposed to go like this, backed up against the wall, apologetic and resentful and maybe even a little bit in love. 

 

It wasn't supposed to go like this at all.

 

Jason deserves better.

 

They move a little too much, and the glass case rattles loud, echoes against the high walls of the cave. It startles the love straight out of Dick, wakes him up and makes him realize what exactly they've gotten themselves into now. 

 

This is where he should take a step back, pick up all the apologies, resent, and love and hide them right where they belong.

 

But it just takes a look, a quick flutter of eyelids over gleaming blue, and Bruce can't hide anymore. 

 

When Bruce cups the side of his neck, it's Dick's pulse he feels against his fingertips, thumping and throbbing and so, so alive. 

 

He wants to hold it forever, feel every minute it beats right beneath his fingers. 

 

But Dick leans in, cups Bruce's hands in his own and slides them down, away from his neck, away from his heartbeat, and Bruce knows it's too much to ask for.

 

He rubs down Dick's arms, and it all feels a little desperate, grasping with tightened fingers until Bruce feels his knuckles go white.

 

"I'm here." Dick can read all the things Bruce can't put into words. He can press them into Dick's skin with the tips of his thumbs, and Dick would understand. 

 

"I'm alive, Bruce." 

 

And it pierces, worse than anything Bruce has felt, hits him right below his heart, cuts it out from between his ribs and shakes him from the inside out. 

 

 

Dick was there, cross-legged in one of the high-back chairs surrounding the main console. Unsuited and dressed down, it struck Bruce hard at how long it had been, how long since they'd been side by side as people instead of as shadows. 

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Despite himself, Bruce wanted to smile. Brave and unwavering, Dick was always one of the few to give Bruce an even stare, spine straight, eyes focused. Bruce was so proud, and it hurt him that this is what he was thinking of when-

 

"Answer me, Bruce." The chair wheeled back from under Dick's legs, knocked into the console behind it as he crossed the cave floor, steps slow and deliberate. 

 

The Bat does not have predators. It does not step back, submit, succumb. But Bruce Wayne has always been weak to beautiful birds, and he took two steps back when Dick strides worth three. 

 

"It wasn't the right time." Is what Bruce decided was the most appropriate, non conclusive answer. Dick laughed humorlessly, and it was disgusting to Bruce that he relished in the sound. 

 

"Would it ever be the right time?" Dick looked up at him and tilted his head to the side, black hair falling around his eyes with the movement. Bruce reached up, halted himself midway before he could brush the strands from his face, a sad excuse to feel skin beneath his fingers, memorize the contours of his cheekbones before-

 

"No." Bruce knew better than to lie, because Dick could read anything. It should frighten him, dissuade him, but it instead it made him feel disgustingly important. 

 

"Then why didn't you say anything?" Dick's stare went steely, hardened around the edges of the iris, blue reflective like the unpolished facets of a gemstone. Bruce looked away. Unnerved, conflicted, he's-

 

Bruce walks towards the glass casing and pressed his hand against the surface. He didn't turn when Dick moved to stand behind him, just stared at him through the glass, palm up against the reflection of Dick's chest. He liked the illusion it gave, and that sickened him.

 

"Bruce, listen-"

 

"I need to see it every day."

 

"That's not-"

 

"Every day, Dick." 

 

Bruce shifted his gaze, looked down the bloodied gold-red-green encased in bullet-proof glass. 

 

"You still haven't answered my question." Dick moved closer, close enough that Bruce could almost feel him pressed against his back. He closed his eyes, exhaled for what feels like days and finally-

 

"I was relieved." 

 

Dick didn't respond. Just stayed still behind Bruce, barely even breathed.

 

"And that. Wasn't what I was supposed to feel." Bruce was still staring at the case, eyes unfocused and bleary.

 

"But it was, and I wasn't ready. To tell you and have to admit that to myself." 

 

Bruce turned around, finally, and for the first time that evening (morning? afternoon? Time stands still in the cave and Bruce's lost track of everything) Dick faltered. He took a step back and Bruce let him back away.

 

"It could have been you, Dick." 

 

"Bruce-" Dick warned him, eyes starting to glass and voice starting to lose its conviction but Dick had asked, had pressed so hard, and so Bruce says-

 

"But it wasn't. And I was relieved." 

  
  
  


 

Jason deserved better. Dick deserves better. 

 

It wasn't supposed to end up like this, hands scrambling clumsily at wrinkled clothes, pulling and tearing at seams like it's-

 

Like it's the last time they ever will. 

 

"I'm alive, Bruce." Dick says it into Bruce's mouth, presses it against his lips, licks it onto his tongue, breathes it into his breathes until Bruce can almost feel the words.

 

"I'm sorry." 

 

“Don’t be.” Dick tightens his grip in the fabric of Bruce’s shirt, and Bruce thinks about how he likes the way it looks, wrinkled beneath Dick’s fingers. 

 

“Not to you. Not about you. To-”

 

The glass case rattles again and Dick's still warm against his hands.

 

Bruce runs his hands up, and punishes himself for falling in love. 

A bird sings, a bird falls from the nest. Bruce causes all of it. 

 


End file.
